Okay. Let’s sit down together and go over this “Tap Tap Tap” thing with a clear and level head, without getting riled up and going bonkers. A CR2S subject stretches out over eight months because it defies explanation and logic, and retains our interest through it all. Let’s take a deep breath, exhale slowly and see what we can agree upon.
“O-bah-keh-san” is real. “O” is a surreal mystery. And begs the question: Why did it enter a mundane life that up to now had been about as exciting as a bowl of rice? The tap tap tap adventure is novel and bizarre, but always intriguing.
Without doubt the frequency of visits, their timing, as well as the inexplicable single-ring telephone calls, all have meaning and purpose. The only problem is we have been unable to unravel the unknown and unseen into a scenario that makes sense. So for the nonce, let’s set aside all of the surreal comings and goings and review the other events that have occurred; delving deeper into the string of strange happenings that seem to defy logical explanation. A closer scrutiny to determine whether we’re dealing with mere coincidence or something else altogether.
Incident #I: A bedside lamp crashes to the floor without being touched. Circumstance: There is a cleaning lady that dusts, vacuums and cleans the quarters weekly, while another person changes my linen; they come at different times Tuesday mornings. Explanation: The lamp could have been unwittingly moved to a precarious position by either, inviting an eventual accident. Argument: It was evening and I had turned the lamp on. Wouldn’t I have noticed if it was on the verge of tilting over? I am not a complete dork, you know.
Incident #II: The bedroom television set unaccountably begins showing the closed caption (cc) feature; disconcerting to anyone not hearing-impaired as it spells out the words being spoken. Circumstance: There it was when I turned on my set one evening and couldn’t get rid of it no matter which remote buttons were punched; checking out the control box and the stuff on the side of the television set. Explanation: I could have inadvertently sat on the remote or fiddled with it in my sleep. Argument: It took an electrician [after two others failed] 30 minutes to return the set to normal, expressing bewilderment at what might have caused the problem in the first place. He said it couldn’t have been caused by a stray nudge.
Incident #III: The very next day Channel 938 disappears. Kaput. Gone. Circumstance: No matter what I’m watching [news or sporting event], the “last” remote button is set on that Time/Warner channel, where I can hear a reprise of big-band era music, audio only. That way, during commercial breaks or lulls in the action, I can switch channels and listen to soothing music of Miller, Dorsey, Sinatra et al. Explanation: It could have been deleted from the T/W menu since it has very few ad sponsors. Every now and again, I would check back in hopes it had returned, only to get 939 every time. Manually tuning down would get me 937. The station had simply disappeared. Argument: Voila, three days later it’s back as suddenly as it disappeared. And the first song to be heard is “Black Magic.” [I don’t make this stuff up, folks.] And there has been no problem since.
Incident #IV: Refrigerator contents suddenly turn up frozen. Circumstance: I always have strawberries and bacon for breakfast; berries are not served at KRH, bacon but once a week. So every a.m. I take some out of my icebox and cart them to the dining room. Explanation: None. I never touched the refrig’s coldness dial; didn’t even know where it was. Everything was normal the prior evening [when I down a couple of pills with juice] but was frozen when I opened the refrigerator door the next morning. Argument: The rubber-lined door could have failed to close properly [for just one night?] Or I readjusted the cold dial in my sleep.
Right about the same time, in an incident I’ve not mentioned before, the home page of my computer was completely reconfigured, without warning or explanation. It goes without saying I draw a short straw when it comes to all the modern e-stuff. [I once lost a completed column to never-never land when I hit a key I shouldn’t have. And then there’s the infamy of sending a personal letter to the wrong people.] So there I was, unable to read my all important reader email because I couldn’t figure out how to get there. After a frustrating 30 minutes tracking the mouse every which way and to every icon on screen, I finally see a tiny box upper right that says “mail,” so small I have to squint to make it out.
Anyway, there you go, people, make of them what you choose. Strange happenstance or mere coincidence? Chance occurrence versus easy to explain? The fickle fingers that tapped my shoulder remain a mystery and as unexplainable as ever. I only hope “O” will continue its presence and maybe consider adding someone else to the visitation roster. It would give us someone (else) to confirm and validate; not that I’m in need of validation or confirmation. I simply enjoy company. Sometimes. Depends.
W.T. Wimpy Hiroto can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. Opinions expressed in this column are not necessarily those of The Rafu Shimpo.